


jesus christ, i'm so blue all the time

by hounds_of_love



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: 'do my friends hate me or do i just need to sleep', Pat is just really fucking lonely and really needs a hug (mood), all the ghosts are mentioned i think, also it's like prerelationship, omg i just realised this story is basically john mulaney's quote, or like developing I guess, that's actually lifted my mood pahaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 16:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hounds_of_love/pseuds/hounds_of_love
Summary: Alison and Mike have a party but their friends actually sleep in the bedrooms this time. Pat's room is nabbed early and he has to share with the Captain.Cue late night talks, crying, cuddles, friendship and love.
Relationships: Alison/Mike (Ghosts TV 2019), Pat Butcher & The Captain (Ghosts TV 2019), Pat Butcher/The Captain (Ghosts TV 2019)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	jesus christ, i'm so blue all the time

**Author's Note:**

> I won't lie, this was originally gonna be a different story with getting together and relationship talks and a bit o smooching - i might try to write that another day.  
> but yeah, circumstances change and I'm now miles and miles from my partner and suddenly achingly lonely so I'm using Pat to cope, because who else.  
> please be nice with comments and kudos, though you all always are, i just don't think i can handle anything else at the moment.  
> also please tell me if there are any mistakes, because I'm notoriously bad at proofreading :)

Alison and Mike had guests round. Normally Pat would be over the moon and ready to join the party, ready to bust out some funky dance moves and generally have a good time.  
But today was different to the last time they had a party. This time, it was planned. People arrived with overnight bags and pyjamas and Alison had given them permission to choose whatever bedrooms they wanted to collapse in later.  
And this is where Pat was left in a bit in the lurch because it turned out that Mike and Alison had quite a lot of friends, actually. and a lot of rooms had been chosen. He already knew his room was out - two people arrived there in the evening to start getting ready. Alison was too embroiled in the growing merriment to pay attention to Pat’s questioning about which rooms were left available to sleep in so he had to go on his own little adventure to see where else was free.  
He had thought he might share with someone amenable but quickly realised that the list of people both willing and able to share was very short. He sought out Kitty first, thinking he might kip in the chair in her room, but Mary had already asked to bunk with her, and shook her head aggressively, smoke rising angrily from her hair, when Kitty offered him the chair anyway. 

“‘Tis not right, Pat!” 

Kitty had apologised on her behalf. 

“I understand, Kitty, don’t worry!” He said happily, still holding out hope for the others. 

Julian had managed to escape his room being taken this time and blatantly refused to share. Thomas was lounging in the very same room and claimed he was bunking there too, but judging by Julian’s face and the raised voices as Pat made a quick exit, that was _not_ happening. Fanny had yelled at him the second he knocked on the door, something about impropriety and loud men in the house. Pat had found Robin sleeping in front of the fire, as he’d done on Christmas day, undeterred by the noises and people around him.  
So Pat was out of a bed for the night, and everyone else had been typically selfish (with the exception of Kitty and Mary, he supposed, because he understood why they wouldn’t be comfortable having him there). He didn’t really know what to do from here. He supposed he ought to find somewhere vaguely comfortable to sleep. But he could hear the sound of Mike’s throat base and knew the sofas he wanted were not an option.  
Pat briefly considered just going to sleep in his bedroom but knowing his luck he’d get woken up by someone lying, well, _in_ him, which he knew from experience was the worst way to be woken up.  
It was sometime after midnight and Pat stood in the kitchen, debating either sleeping on the table, or just pulling an all-nighter. If he could make it ‘til morning, he could curl up on the sofa, because everyone else would be asleep in the beds that he wanted to be in. It was ridiculously annoying to have to consider all these different variables, when all he really _really_ wanted was to sleep. He rubbed at the crease between his eyebrows, and knew not to pay any more attention to the bone deep exhaustion he felt, lest he end up crying out of frustration, and instead just commit to something. 

“I say, Pat.” The Captain made him jump as he strutted into the room, “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

Pat looked at him pointedly. 

“I mean, I could ask you the very same question, Cap.” 

The Captain frowned. 

“Well, I’m doing my rounds, of course.” 

“Right.” Pat nodded, “Of course.”

“Is something keeping you up? Should I be made aware of it?” The Captain asked in that special way that often implied he didn’t really want an answer, though he did look round the room for some indication of what was going on. 

“No, no. I’m just, uh, out of a room tonight. I’ve checked everywhere, and this is the only place I’ve found with a horizontal area.” Pat gestured to the table in front of them, “Everywhere else was already full or already being shared, or people were unwilling to share.” 

“Unwilling?”

“Well, I hardly want to sleep in the same room as Fanny do I, and she definitely doesn’t want to share with me. Thomas and Julian are both selfish bastards, so.” Pat shrugged. 

“You didn’t ask me.” The Captain said quietly, seeming a bit surprised at himself. 

Pat’s mouth turned into its contemplative upside down position. 

“I didn’t think you’d want the company. You hate people invading your personal space.”

“Yes, well, I never turn a man down.” The Captain bristled, then stammered, “A man in need. That is, a man in need of a bed. A soldier. Never let a man down. A soldier behind. You know what I’m trying to say.” 

Pat stared at him. 

“Uh, not really. Struggling to follow that, if I’m honest.” 

“I’m saying you can bunk with me tonight!” The Captain raised his voice, partly in annoyance, partly in embarrassment. 

Pat frowned even more. The Captain rolled his eyes. 

“Come _on_.” He gestured to the door and walked away, clearly expecting Pat to follow. 

It took a moment for everything to catch up with Pat, and for his legs to start moving. He had to walk quickly to keep up with the Captain’s long strides. He could honestly say he hadn’t considered even asking the Captain, assuming it would be the quickest and most resounding negative response of them all, except maybe Fanny.

They reached the Captain’s room quicker than Pat realised, and the other man hesitated outside. There was a general awkwardness in the way he stood and in his expression. He looked a bit like he wanted to say something, but also a bit like a child about to show a parent the bedroom they had spent all day tidying. 

“Right. Well. Here we are.” The Captain gestured weakly at the door and at Patrick’s small nod, they walked through. The Captain hesitated again once they were on the other side of the doorway. 

“You alright, mate?” Pat asked, kindly, “You can tell me to naff off if it’s gonna make you uncomfy.” 

The Captain coughed and straightened his back. 

“No. Nonsense. You’re here now.” 

“Right. Good.” 

“Yes. Good.” 

Neither of them moved a muscle. The Captain coughed again. 

“Well, I’ll take the right side, if that’s alright?” 

“Yeah, of course.” Pat smiled and then as they moved to the bed, he added enthusiastically, “Carol used to sleep on the right side, you know, so I’m used to it.” 

Their eyes met across the bed. There was an odd look in the Captain’s eye when Pat said that, and he paused, with a crease between his eyebrows and gave a funny little smile, though it didn’t seem particularly amusing to Pat. 

“Right.” The Captain cleared his throat, “Well, that’s good to know.” 

They moved in sync to perch on the bed and Pat automatically went to untie his shoes. He could see the Captain looking bemused at him.

“I know it’s silly, alright? But I just feel impolite putting my shoes on your bed.” 

“Of course. That makes sense.” Pat couldn’t help but feel the Captain was humouring him, although that would be very unlike him. Pat tucked his shoes by the bed, knowing they would probably be back on his feet before he drifted off anyway. He left out a sigh as he stared at the ceiling. 

“Well.” Pat couldn’t turn his head to look properly at the Captain because of his arrow, “Goodnight, mate.” 

“Goodnight, Patrick.”

The Captain closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep instantly. Pat did not.  
He spent a long time staring at the ceiling, listening as the echoes of the music and laughter from elsewhere in the house began to die down. In the quiet, he was overtaken completely by the fact that the Captain was right next to him. Their arms and the rest of their bodies were separated by only the smallest amount of space. At any point during the night, Pat could reach out only a few centimetres and his hand would touch the Captain’s.  
At one point, when the background noise faded almost entirely, Pat really considered reaching out and waking the man up, just to talk to him. He couldn’t bear the silence or the darkness. He was so close to another person, who might look at him and tell him that yes, he was dead, but he could still be seen, he still had feelings, and thoughts, and still cared about things, and still deserved to be treated with respect too. Pat was starting to think that his being upset about the acquisition of his room might be related to deeper concerns of his.  
He felt a little aching feeling in his chest - sometimes he would get it when Carol would talk to him and he would feel like she wasn’t really talking _to_ him, just _at_ him, and like she wasn’t really seeing him.  
Here was the Captain, asleep in the same bed as him, yet he felt far away. Something like this should have felt world changing. But right now it felt like Pat could be here, or not be here and there would be no difference. Even though that probably wouldn’t be true. For example, if he reached out and flicked the Captain on the forehead, he was sure the man would definitely care that Pat was there.  
However, when he did eventually sit up to simply look at the Captain in the dark, he found he couldn’t bear to disturb him. Alison hadn’t closed the curtains so the light of the moon highlighted his face as he slept. In sleep, the Captain’s face was free of wrinkles, free of worry lines. He looked years younger, and gentler. He turned to his side during the night as well, so he was facing Pat. His arms encircled his own middle, like he was embracing himself while dreaming. Pat had never seen him look anything like that and his stomach wrenched for the smallest moment, with sadness and longing.  
He was glad he couldn’t feel the warmth of the Captain’s body. Everything just was, when you were a ghost. There was no hot or cold. Just existing. And here he was, existing in this moment with a man who was normally so closed off, and so bloody repressed, but who had still allowed him to witness him like this. That should have been fine, should have been monumental really, but that little ache in his chest, his heart really, persisted.  
It caught up to Pat, how terribly lonely he was sometimes, and how sick he was of not being seen.  
He couldn’t help thinking that now really wasn’t the time for this, as tears began to roll freely down his cheeks. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been tearing up until everything bubbled over. He placed a hand over his mouth to try to stifle the sounds of sniffing and the occasional high sobs. But it was no use. The Captain was a notoriously light sleeper.  
Pat had just squeezed his eyes shut and tightened the hand over his mouth when he felt the Captain begin to stir. 

“Pat?” The Captain said softly, wiping his eyes with his hands sleepily. “Are you quite alright?” 

“Yes, yes.” Pat scrubbed at his face with his sleeves, “I’m fine.” He gave a small hiccup which turned into a sob. 

“Pat!” The Captain sat up properly and laid a gentle, hesitant hand on Pat’s arm. “You’re crying?” 

“Very astute!” Pat’s reply was high-pitched, shrill almost. 

The Captain whipped his hand back as if burnt. Pat took a deep, shaky breath. 

“Please go back to sleep, I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Why are you upset? Have I done something?” The Captain asked earnestly. 

“I’m just feeling a bit lonely.” Pat’s voice broke and he let out a small hiccup, “My stupid room got taken. And we’re fucking ghosts. And no one ever sees me. Ugh god, sorry, I’m just sad.” 

“Oh. Right.” The Captain reached out again and placed his arm on Pat’s shoulder. He rubbed small circles with his thumb. “What can I do to help?” 

“I don’t know!” Pat felt hysterical and stupid, and embarrassed, “You’ve given up your room to share with me, that should be enough, shouldn’t it? So I don’t know why I’m so upset. I just, I want to feel like people know I’m there. Like I’m actually taking up space.” 

Though Pat couldn’t see him, he could tell the Captain was frowning. 

“Right.” The Captain spoke as if he’d made his mind up about something. 

“Hmm?” 

“Come here.” 

With ever so gentle hands on his shoulders, the Captain guided him until they were laying down again. The Captain was on his back, Pat was slightly angled, leaning in the crook of the Captain’s right arm. He could barely breathe. 

“Is this alright?” The Captain asked tentatively, “I know you’re here now.” 

He said it simply enough that Pat thought he might start crying all over again. 

“It’s lovely.” Pat would have blushed if he could. He felt like a teenager, shy in front of his first crush. But there was no need to examine that thought in any more detail. 

He could feel the Captain’s shoulder, solid under his cheek. He could feel his hair moving where it might tickle the other man’s neck and jaw. The Captain wound his right arm across Pat’s shoulders and rested his hand tentatively on his shoulder. Pat felt like the Captain was holding them both together at this point, and he was grateful. 

“This is an interesting side of you, Cap.” Pat whispered gently. 

“Yes, well.” The Captain sighed deeply, “Perhaps I’m tired of being needlessly lonely too.”

Pat nodded gently against the Captain’s shoulder. He understood the terrifying leap that the Captain was taking in admitting that. Pat moved his own arm slowly until he could lay it softly on the Captain’s chest. 

“Thank you.” He murmured, his lips brushing the rough uniform slightly. 

The Captain’s arm tightened around him for a moment. It was comforting. 

“Goodnight, Pat.” 

“Goodnight, Cap.” 

They slept soundly. When Pat awoke, the Captain was still holding him tightly. No one disturbed them. It all seemed so simple. When their eyes met, they both had questions. There were things they could ask now the sun was up, and truths they would tell.  
But as a start, there was an honesty in the way the Captain’s eyes softened when he awoke and gazed sleepily at Pat that said enough for both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> please come and talk to me on [ tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/charlie--lover) if you want :)


End file.
